Apocalypse Past
by Infinite Stair
Summary: Set in an alternate reality FF7 in which Meteor has hit Planet. It's kinda hard to explain, you sorta have to just read it.
1. Prologue

1

_Surely there is honor, even in the blackest of our days._

_Surely there is honor, even in the blackest of our hearts._

_Surely there is honor, here, now. No period in human history has ever needed it more._

_The times have become nightmares._

Final Fantasy 7 - Apocalypse Past

Three years have passed since Cloud Strife's apoplectic loss of faith - and the overthrowing of humanity.

We have entered into a new period in the history of our planet. We have posited the onetime mastery of bacteria over our planet; we have confirmed the onetime mastery of dinosaurs over the planet. We witnessed, firsthand, the onetime mastery of the human race over this planet.

All this has changed.

Our species - what remains of us - has been relegated to a slightly altered position in the global food chain. Deprived largely of the tools and technologies that elevated us to dominance, we have instead returned to a more primitive state. We hunt the deer and bison...are hunted by the tiger, the black bear. Most are mutated, to some degree or another. Meteorfall's effects were not only relegated to the dead.

To envision Planet, one must picture a series of concentric circles, radiating various degrees of Hell. The epicenter, of course, is Midgar; something of a different place, these days. The entire eastern continent was rendered almost entirely uninhabitable, with the exception of some patriotic survivors scratching out a living near Fort Condor. The rest of the world limps on...a mortally wounded planet, drained of its essence, consumed by a single being.

Sephiroth. God.

He rules us now, malevolent, insane; dispatching bizarre and unwarranted damnation upon subjects of his choosing. With all his plans successful, and all his enemies defeated...he has succumbed to the overwhelming power welling inside of him, and yet is being driven mad by the constant question: why does he have it? What does it serve him? He hungers for outrage, for excess, for catastrophic relief. We - my comrades and I - believe it is only a matter of time before he destroys the world for good.

We have pledged to stop this from happening.

We are the Reclaimers, the military arm of the Human League. We are all that is left of civilization.

My name is Vic Wright. I run a deep-penetration recon squad for the Reclaimers, Advance Division.

I have been sent back to Midgar.

(author's note: sheZAM!)


	2. Chapter 1

We are endlessly hunted in Midgar.

"DOWN!"

"OH FU-"

I roll away, just in time. The mutant's plague-riddle body catapults past me, splattering into a juicy explosion of blood and half-formed organs. A single 7.62mm round pops the head of a second mutant like a balloon, and his body lurches reproachfully at me before falling.

Panic.

"OHPLEASEOHPLEA-"

"GET THEM AWAY FROM HIM!!"

"NOOOOOOO-"

Dell is contaminated. His eyes cross slightly, immediately creating the maniacal expression so common to the mutated. Already his bones have softened considerably - flesh droops over his face as his eye sockets give way, his arms droop closer and closer to the floor as his bones soften. He stares at me, grinning, maddening...

"FIRE IN THE HOLE!" Erwin, my sergeant.

The cluster of zombies disintegrates, and the half-dissolved remains of Pvt. Dell lie in a puddle of mutated tissue. I close my eyes.

"Move out."

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ApocalypsePast

Chapter 1

I opened my eyes. My men regarded me grimly.

"Sergeant Erwin."

"Sir!"

"Headcount."

"Seven, sir. Myself. Lance Corporal Knight. Private Eldar. Private First Class Reilly. Corporal Henderson. Specialist Tsee."

After the skirmish, we'd found cover in a small outlet control room in the Sector 6 sewers. Our only company had been a small, five-eyed mouse, who'd regarded us sickeningly before skittering away. There we'd huddled, trying to come to terms with having lost our fifth man in two days, with our own raw fear, with what a fucked up placed the world was. For a time, I joined them.

But I had to lead.

"Corporal Henderson, please update the map to show Access D on the south side of Sector 6 as contaminated."

His head whipped around and I watched, as rage and disbelief battled for control over his tear-stricken face.

"Go fuck yourself, sir."

What could I expect? None of us were prepared for the horrific fight we had to wage, but some of us were especially unprepared. Corporal Ellis Henderson, sixteen years old, was especially unprepared. And the one thing, above all else, he was not prepared to consider was the death of his best friend, Frankie Dunne, Private 1st Class. You've already heard about how he died.

But now, I had to get through to this boy, and I had very little time. My voice was savage.

"Corporal Henderson. Update the map to show Access D as a no-go. Acknowledge your orders!"

Knuckles popped, and I could just barely glimpse him clenching his fists in the flickering fluorescent light. He battled deep within himself, struggling for control...and then he looked me in the eyes and gave a small nod."

"Orders received and understood, sir." He began to unzip his backpack, and I looked to the rest of my squad.

"What now, sir?" Lance Corporal Jonathan Knight, my heavy weapons and demolitions man. Faces pressed in, sweat and blood mingling as my men leaned in to hear my judgment upon their lives. I knew what they wanted, and I knew I couldn't give it to them.

"We'll backtrack to the main sewer access, and try the next saferoute. Access H, through the Sector 7 ruins," I pronounced, my voice flat with detachment.

'SIR!" The word almost explosively spat, Private Eldar - nineteen years old - registered his disapproval. "With all due respect, _sir_, the last three so-called 'saferoutes' have ALL BEEN CONTAMINATED!"

Did the fool think I didn't know this? "I'm aware of that, Private. We have our mission."

"Our mission, sir?!" Eldar howled, his voice cracking with fear. "Our mission? There's no fucking WAY we're completing our mission, sir! Getting to Shinra HQ?! Are you shitting me? We can't even get past the fucking Midgar outer ring!" His voice gibbered over as he went on, degenerating almost into incoherency. With a burst of raw emotion he jerked forward and grabbed me by the shoulders. "Don't you see? We're all gonna die if we stay here! We gotta get out of here!"

A sickening crack, and Eldar whimpered slightly as he crumpled before me. Sergeant Bruce Erwin, thirty-eight years old and my second in command, stood above him.

"Just KOed, sir, though I'd have killed him with pleasure."

I nodded. Regarded the rest of my squad.

"Anyone else?"

No one said a word.

"Good," I said with satisfaction. We'll camp here for the night, six hours sleep allowed. Tomorrow morning, we scout Access H. Get your rest, gentlemen. You'll need it."

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I dream of mutation. I dream of becoming one of them, of relinquishing my mind, of becoming the empty host of disease. No feelings, no conscience, no memory...

...It is not an unhappy dream, in some ways.


End file.
